Postpartum depression is an odd thing. The way that it comes and goes without warning never ceases to catch me off guard; one moment I am fine and the next something has touched that deep sadness in me and it rises up to be prominent for a few days before sinking back down again. It’s not constant. It’s not predictable. It’s barely definable, to me. This past weekend started with the slow rise of PPD, and I find myself today feeling the ache more than ever. I’ve noticed recently that certain people I know make it better or worse; certain situations, or sequences of events, lead to my feeling a…